


The Ongoing Adventures of the Vaultie and Her Stalwart Ghoul Companion

by faptainpabu



Category: Fallout (Video Games)
Genre: And the Vaultie isn't much better, Charon is emotionally constipated, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-12
Updated: 2016-01-20
Packaged: 2018-05-01 06:36:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 13
Words: 13,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5195846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/faptainpabu/pseuds/faptainpabu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Her name was Eve. And if things kept going the way they were, she was going to be the death of him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, I've actually been working on this story for months. I'm not 100% pleased with it, but if there's one thing my dad taught me, it's that it doesn't matter if something is perfect so long as you finish it. I always loved Charon as a character, and I definitely would have romanced him if given the option. I may have made him a little bit OOC (not that there was a whole lot to him in-game), but I did my best. Any constructive criticism is welcome.

Her name was Eve. He’d heard it whispered in the halls of Underworld, had seen the way the others told the stories of her exploits and adventures. There were rarely visitors to the museum, so it was hardly too surprising that the ghouls living inside would take so easily to the human girl. She didn’t look upon them with disgust or hatred, simply traded and bartered as she would with any other of her kind. He’d even seen her charisma in action when she’d come in to have a drink at the bar.

Azrukhal, the insufferable fool, had a weakness for the pretty little smoothskin—though that didn’t stop him from overcharging, cheating, and lying to the girl. Her eyes had always found him in the corner, though, something that Charon did his best not to pay any mind to, but she never seemed willing to approach him.

Before long, Charon began to notice when the girl was absent. She would disappear for weeks on end into the Wasteland, only to return sun-kissed and bearing a few new scars. The girl was always willing to share the stories of how she got the scars with the other patrons in the Ninth Circle, and he knew Azrukhal was pleased with the business she brought. Charon found himself watching the girl from when she walked in, all swaying hips and mocha skin, up until the moment she left with whiskey on her breath and a smile on her face.

 

One evening, after a particularly loud and rambunctious night of revelry, Charon was doing some upkeep on his weapons when he became aware of a shadow cast over his table. He glanced up, brow furrowing when he found himself eye-level with the thick leather of the smoothskin’s chestplate. She was standing in front of his corner table, cutting off his view of the weasel he called his employer, and it took all of the will in him not to stare. Instead, he directed his eyes up to her dark, freckled face with an unimpressed look.

 

“No. Go talk to Azrukhal,” he stated, and the girl looked mildly taken aback for a moment before she began to speak.

 

“I just—”

 

“Don’t make me say it again,” he growled. She held her hands up defensively, stepping back and away from the table before disappearing back to the bar. Charon thanked whatever gods had put him on this earth that the skin on his face was more or less burned away, because he knew that if he still looked the way he had before he’d been irradiated, he would probably be bright red the entire time she was walking away. He wouldn’t admit it out loud, but his eyes were following the Vaultie’s ass from the moment she turned around.

 

He had just finished reassembling his favorite pistol when she returned, this time sliding a chair with her and sinking into it in front of him. Charon looked up, ready to blow her off again, but he’d just begun to get the words out when she shoved an all-too-familiar piece of paper into his face with a quirked eyebrow.

 

“Slow down, there. I have good news. I’m your new employer,” the girl practically purred, and Charon took the paper with disbelief written across his emaciated features. His new employer? How had this tiny, leather-clad girl, fresh out of the Vault, managed to convince Azrukhal to turn over his contract? Sure enough, though, the contract was in his hands. He’d never had an employer trust him to handle the contract, but when he tried to hand it back, she just ignored him and took a swig from her beer.

 

“You purchased my contract from Azrukhal?” he asked, trying not to look too pleased with the turn of events. She nodded. “So, I am no longer in his service. That is good to know. Please, wait here. I must take care of something.”

 

He stood, crossing the room towards his former employer, who was busily wiping down the bar. The Ink Spots were playing on the radio, one of the few songs Three Dog played that he could still stand after all those years in the hell-hole Azrukhal called his bar, and Charon could tell that Azrukhal hadn’t heard him cross the room. He cleared his throat, and the old ghoul looked up at him curiously.

 

“Azrukhal. I am told that I am no longer in your service,” Charon said, the words tasting sweet in his mouth. He’d been waiting so many years for this moment, and here it finally was.

 

“Yes,” Azrukhal responded, looking ready to continue, but Charon pulled his shotgun before the man could so much as blink, splattering his brains across the wall behind the bar. Silence fell in the bar, and he heard a choked noise of surprise from his new employer. He returned his shotgun to its rightful place and turned to face her, mildly impressed with how quickly her expression turned impassive.

 

“Alright, let’s go,” he said simply, and the girl stepped forward, clapping a hand on his shoulder.

 

“Sounds good to me. Let’s get out of here,” she said, pausing only to collect her caps back from Azrukhal’s body. Charon gave her a look, mildly amused, but she simply jingled the small bag with a cheeky grin. “Waste not, want not. If I didn’t take ‘em, someone else would’ve.”

This looked to Charon like the beginning of a beautiful friendship.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charon and Eve have a heart-to-heart.

“Hey, I’ve got a question.”

Charon didn’t have to look up to know that his employer was talking to him. It was only the three of them in the room: him, the Vaultie, and her stupid dog. Though, he admitted that at least Dogmeat (who the hell names a dog Dogmeat?) was useful sometimes. Finding ammo when they were in desperate straits, helping him take down mole rats and the occasional Raider. The Vault girl was smart, sure, but she wasn’t exactly a hell of a shot. Three weeks of traveling with the dame was enough to prove that.

“What,” he responded dryly, scratching Dogmeat behind the ears idly as he flipped through a copy of Tumblers Today—not really reading it, but how was she supposed to know that? He glanced up, meeting hazel eyes with glazed blue. She’d cut her hair again, the short hairs just barely an inch away from her scalp. His eyes flickered to the scissors in her hand, but he didn’t acknowledge them otherwise.

“Are you.. happy?” she asked, in that infuriatingly innocent way. Charon would never understand how the girl could kill Raiders on a near-daily basis and steal from just about everyone they met, but still seem so sweet and innocent. It was part of why he couldn’t bring himself to hate her like he had Azrukhal—that, and the fact that she didn’t treat him like a dog on a leash. She didn’t even treat the dog like a dog on a leash, letting him run amok and do as he pleased. Though, generally what he pleased was following her around with a wagging tail and a dumb look.

“Fucking overjoyed,” the ghoul groused, rolling his eyes and returning to not-reading. He heard the soft sigh the girl made, and suddenly she was kneeling on the bed next to him. She was giving him that look, that ‘I just want what’s best for you’ look the perfect little brat was so good at. He grumbled, trying to ignore her, but she pushed the book out of his face and pushed her lip out in a little pout.

“Charon, be serious for a second, okay? Are you happy?” she asked again, and it took everything Charon had not to melt under her gaze. God damn Vaultie and her goodie-two-shoes need to protect everyone.

“Happy how?” he asked gruffly, studying her carefully. She paused, thinking for a moment.

“Happy with.. me, I guess. Living with me, protecting me,” she clarified, shrugging and flopping back on the bed. She curled up, hugging her knees and chewing at her lower lip. Charon continued to study her for a moment, then stretched up to put the book on the filing cabinet next to the bed.

“Why is this so important to you, huh?” he asked, what was left of his brow furrowing in confusion. Eve blinked, looking surprised at the question. She shrugged again, pulling a pack of cigarettes out of her pack and lighting one up.

“It just is. You’re... very important to me, Charon, I just want to make sure you’re not completely miserable. I hear you grumbling all the time, and I..” she trailed off, suddenly very interested in the threadbare mattress beneath them. Charon huffed out a sigh, shaking his head and standing. His sudden movement startled Dogmeat, who barked in indignation and jumped up to take his place. The infernal mutt cuddled up to the Vaultie, who began to pet him absent-mindedly.

“I’m fine. Don’t worry about me, I’m just here to keep you safe,” he said simply, turning and moving towards the door.

“Charon, stop.”

He froze in place, turning to look at her with what he hoped was an intimidating glare. She was still sitting on the bed, but both she and Dogmeat had sat up to look at him. Her expression was that of concern, and Charon had to stop himself from trying to console her. Damn his protective instincts.

“If you want to leave me, just tell me. I’ll tear up your contract, burn it, whatever you want. I just want you to be happy,” her voice was practically a whisper by the end, hazel eyes glistening. He swallowed hard, turning to face the door again.

Charon paused. For the first time in his life, it seemed like his employer cared about him. She wanted him to be happy, to feel comfortable with her. It made his chest feel like it was twisted up and knotted, painful and tight, but he.. liked it. He glanced back at the Vaultie, one corner of his mouth pulling up in a shadow of a smile.

“I’m not going anywhere, kid,” he responded simply, and that was the end of the conversation.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Project Purity and the aftermath.

It was just Charon’s fucking luck. Him and the Vaultie had finally managed to track down her father, the elusive James, and of course the fucker was in trouble. The Vaultie had tracked him to Vault 112, showing up at the Ninth Circle with bags under her eyes and informing him that her father had been trapped in a virtual reality simulation by some psychotic asshole named Braun. The scientist had been using said virtual reality to trap his charges, as well as Eve and James when they’d showed up, and Eve’s promise that all of the vault-dwellers were free of Braun’s reign was almost enough to make Charon feel better about the situation. Almost.

He wanted nothing more than to track the asshole down and put a bullet in his skull for treating them the way he had, but something in Eve’s eyes had told him that she needed him more. So when she’d asked him to come to Rivet City with her and help her father with something called Project Purity, he’d said yes. Heaven help him, he’d said yes. They’d trudged to the giant fucking ship and listened to him argue with some bitch named Dr. Li before going to clear out the Jefferson Memorial (what kind of father put his daughter in danger, pitting her against a building filled to the brim with Super Mutants?) so they could be James’ little helpers.

Sure, Charon liked taking out Muties just as much as the next asshole with a gun, but there was something about the situation that just seemed fucked up to him. The way Eve looked at her father, though, like he was the whole world to her, showed Charon that there was no arguing with her on this. They were helping James, no matter what he said. Part of him was relieved, at least he could keep an eye on Eve as long as he was with her, but that all changed when he heard the whirring engines of the Enclave Vertibirds. Things just got better and better.

“Nine o’clock!” he barked, firing his shotgun over his employer’s armored shoulder, taking down a soldier. They were standing in a pipe in the sub-basement, on their way back to the rotunda, and there were soldiers fucking everywhere. So much for getting the purifier online, if the Enclave was here. He turned to look for any other soldiers, and when he turned back—she was gone. Of fucking course.

She’d hit the water below and took off running, her armor clanging as she moved, and Charon had to hurry to keep up, following her back up the stairs and into the main complex. Enclave soldiers were everywhere, killing engineer and scientist alike, and he didn’t have to see Eve’s face to know she was panicking. Another soldier down, and another, and they managed to get to the door of the rotunda. He was bleeding, barely aware as she pushed the door open and darted up the stairs to the purifier.

James was in the purifier, surrounded by soldiers and who he assumed was their commander. The two men were arguing, James trying to put on a brave face at the sight of his daughter through the glass. Charon could respect that, but he knew how this would end.

“No,” he heard his employer whisper, stepping up to the glass and shooting at it desperately. He put out a hand to stop her, and her gun dropped to the floor as she stared at her father helplessly.

“Am I to assume, sir, that you are in charge?” a man was asking. His back was to the bulkhead—and if Charon didn’t know for a fact that it was bulletproof (Eve herself had told him after she’d watched a bullet ricochet off it in there earlier), he’d have his shotgun leveled with the guy’s skull. Just the tone of the man’s voice made his skin crawl.

“Yes, I’m responsible for this project,” James replied flatly. Eve busied herself with trying to find a way into the purifier, pressing all of the buttons on the console in front of her.

“Then I repeat, sir, that you are hereby instructed to immediately hand over all materials related to the purifier.”

“I’m sorry, but that’s...”

“Furthermore, you are to assist Enclave scientists in assuming control of the administration and operation of this facility at once.”

“Colonel.. Is it Colonel? I’m sorry, but this facility is not operational. It never has been. I’m afraid you’re wasting your time—“ Charon shook his head, joining his employer in searching for a way to open the bulkhead. A gun firing inside the chamber stopped both of them, and they turned to look in shock as Janice dropped to the floor next to James. The man didn’t even flinch, staring down the Enclave Colonel with a mild grimace.

“Yes, Colonel. I’ll do whatever you want. There’s no need for any more violence,” he said, and Charon would swear that the man locked eyes with him through the glass. He took ahold of Eve’s arm, but she just shrugged him off, pressing her hands to the glass as James began to boot up the purifier’s systems. There was an explosion inside of the machine, and the soldiers inside fell to the ground as James lurched over to the door.

“Run! ...Run!” he croaked as he fell to the ground, and Eve let out a horrified wail as Charon lifted her easily, gesturing for Dr. Li to follow as he carried his sobbing employer from the room. There was gunfire everywhere, but Charon managed to navigate through it easily to find the escape hatch, opening it and covering the others as they descended, only dropping down once he saw Li disappear down it.

They traversed the sewers in relative silence, his employer quickly taking to the role of concerned mother as Garza began to lag behind. She was determined to leave no man behind, but occasionally would fix Charon with a dead stare, as though her father’s fate was in some part his doing. He tried to ignore the guilt he felt from her stare, focusing on getting them to the Brotherhood safely.

She didn’t speak to him until they arrived at the Citadel. They were getting patched up by ‘Sawbones’, a Mister Gutsy programmed to be the Citadel’s resident physician, when she finally spoke up across the room.

“Charon, I want you to go.”

Charon’s head snapped up painfully fast to look at his employer. “Excuse me?” his voice was barely above a whisper, and her cold hazel eyes flickered towards him slowly.

“I want you to leave. Back to Underworld, or to Megaton, or wherever,” she stated softly, sitting forward to stare down at the floor. “I don’t know if I can trust—“

“Boss, you can trust me,” Charon insisted, not exactly sure why his heart was pounding so hard. It was dismaying at the very least, the thought of being separated from her, and he wasn’t sure exactly why this is happening.

“I know that,” Eve snapped, confusing Charon even further. “But I—I’m not sure I can trust myself to have your back, Charon. I.. I could have saved him, you didn’t even give me a cha—“

“Boss, with all due respect, your father chose his fate. He would’ve wanted you to survive, and if we didn’t get out of there, you wouldn’t have.”

“Don’t you tell me what my dad would’ve wanted! You didn’t know him!” her face was bright red, tears prickling the corners of her eyes as she glared at him. Charon felt all the blood drain from his face—he’d never seen her this mad.

“Boss— I didn’t mean-“

“I don’t want to let you get hurt, Charon. But I can’t trust myself to protect you. Do you understand?” she was deadly serious now, wiping her eyes with a dirty sleeve as she looked away again. Charon’s jaw clenched, and he laughed sharply.

“Doesn’t mean I’ve gotta go, Boss. Just means I gotta watch my back as well as yours,” he said, and she looked back in surprise. He smiled weakly, shrugging. “I didn’t carry you outta there just to leave. You’re stuck with me ‘til either I’m dead, or that contract is destroyed. Maybe longer.”

She stared at him, silent, and Charon watched as she slid off the bench, waving off the Gutsy as she approached Charon slowly, as one would a frightened animal. Once she was close enough, Charon closed the distance, reaching out and pulling her into a tight hug (one he’d never admit to giving her later). Eve crumbled against him, letting out a shaky sob, and Charon buried a hand into her hair, letting her cry into the leather of his armor. They stayed like that for what felt like forever, until she pulled away with a sniffly giggle as she pulled away.

“You hugged me,” she whispered.

“Shut up,” he replied.

Best not to let the affection go to her head.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Charon gets jealous.

That night, the Brotherhood decided to hold a small dinner for the survivors of the Project Purity “tragedy”, as Elder Lyons had taken to calling it. Massacre was more like it, but Charon wouldn’t say that around his employer. She seemed to hold Lyons in high regard, hanging on to every word that came out of the geezer’s mouth like it was holy fucking gospel. Charon though the old man was full of shit. He was more concerned about his kid than the good of the Wasteland itself, despite what he said. Though, thinking about it like that made him understand a bit why the kid respected him so much.

There wasn’t a dress code for the dinner, they all just kind of piled around the booths in the mess hall, but Eve loved an excuse to dress up and Charon knew it. She showed up in a pink Pre-War dress, her wild curls pinned away from her face. She looked every bit like the nineteen-year-old she was, and Charon had to admit—in another life, he probably would have walked over to talk to her. But that other life had long since passed, and as much as he liked to look, he knew better than to touch. He wasn’t a young, fresh-faced smoothskin anymore—hadn’t been for a good two hundred years.

But sometimes, when she looked at him, he felt his old, weathered heart skip a beat. She’d smile at him and he’d feel all the warmth in his body go to his cheekbones. He was far too old to have this much of a schoolkid crush, but he had never felt this way with an employer before. He’d been with Azrukhal for decades, and had seen so much of the man’s corruption and sheer apathy for human life that this child, barely out of the vault surprised him. She saw the good in him, in everyone around her, and didn’t care whether they could see it in themselves anymore. She never fired the first shot, she slid through the shadows like a tiny, bright blue snake and could talk her way out of any situation.

She was such a stunning contrast to him, especially like this. And yet she walked right over and plopped next to him in his solitary booth, uncaring of his hastily-scrubbed leather armor and the fact that he’d spent the last twenty minutes cleaning his shotgun meticulously and inadvertently terrifying some poor Initiates who’d attempted to talk to him.

“I never thought I’d be so glad to see a bar of soap in my life,” she stated slowly, seeming to weigh every word as she spoke. She was obviously still somewhat tense from their disagreement, on top of the fact that she’d just seen her father die less than twelve hours prior. The wound was still fresh, in both a literal and figurative way. His eyes were drawn momentarily to a bandage on her forearm, clean and pristine against her dark skin.

“You alright?” he asked in response, gesturing to it as he slid his shotgun into its holster, reaching for the lukewarm beer he’d left on the table. She nodded slowly, then began to shake her head.

“Not really. But I.. I think I’ll be fine. For now. Elder Lyons and I were talking about a new strategy to get Project Purity back from the Enclave,” she spoke softly, as though slightly unsure of the situation. Charon sat up slightly, nodding, and she sighed, shrugging. “I’m excited to try and carry on my father’s work, but I’m not sure I’m cut out to do all this. I’m not experienced enough, I’m not a soldier—“

“I was a soldier once, and you’re right, you’re not a soldier. You’re a strong—if sheltered, independent woman, Boss. You’re the one thing in this goddamn fight that I think gives us any chance of winning,” he admitted somewhat awkwardly, taking another swig of his beer. She stared at him for a moment, expression unreadable, and for a second Charon was worried he’d said something stupid.

“Thank you, Charon,” she said after a moment, but her attention was quickly captured by the arrival of Lyon’s Pride, her favorite Brotherhood Knights. Charon didn’t particularly care about them, but he knew how much Eve admired the flock of well-trained misfits. She’d integrated into them almost immediately, joking and laughing while Charon followed around like a lost puppy dog behind her, untrusting of the foreign environment.

“Eve! Looking good!” called one of them—he thought the guy was called Kodiak, and he felt something in his chest tighten as she grinned, flushing slightly as he and Paladin Lyons moved towards them. Lyons was free of her bulky armor, as was Kodiak. In fact, Charon noticed with a quick scan of the room, no one in the room seemed to be wearing armor, all moving about in casual wear and the occasional robe and uniform.

“Hey Kodiak, Sarah,” greeted his employer, smiling brightly. Suddenly he felt a hand on his arm, and Charon looked at her in surprise. “You remember my friend, Charon?”

“I thought he was your bodyguard?” Kodiak asked, snagging some beers from a passing Initiate and offering one to her. She took it with a smile, and Charon felt that strange tightening feel again, trying to look at anything but the young woman sitting by him. He was suddenly aware of how small the booth was, but he refrained from commenting as the two smoothskins slid into the booth opposite.

“Friend, bodyguard, best buddy. Occasional space heater,” she said, pausing and blushing brightly. “I mean, not like _that_ or anything.”

“Oh hey, I know how it is. On those cold Wasteland nights,” teased the dark-skinned man, winking and making the blush on his Vaultie’s skin flare even more. Sarah shook her head beside him, smacking his arm.

“You’re such a jerk, Kodiak, don’t act like you’re getting any anyway,” she said sharply, but there was an edge of fondness and teasing to the voice that made Charon’s mouth twitch in something like a smile. It was strange being around people who actually liked each other—well, people other than Eve’s Megaton friends, Nova and Gob. Or Eve and that godforsaken Moira Brown.

“I’m gonna get another beer,” Charon said quickly, shooing his employer out of the booth so he could go get one. He returned only moments later to find that she’d slid into his spot, talking animatedly to Sarah about Herbert Dashwood and how ‘he’s real, Sarah, I’ve met him!’. He sat down, taking a swig of his beer as he did.

“You know, you should have your own radio show, Eve. The Ongoing Adventures of Vaultie and Her Stalwart Ghoul Companion, Charon,” Sarah said, gesturing as though spreading the words through the air. Kodiak snorted next to her, but Eve looked positively delighted.

“’Stalwart ghoul companion’? Describes Charon to a T,” she giggled, looking over at him. He chuckled, shaking his head and continuing his beer. Their banter continued for a few minutes, until suddenly everyone heard the sound of the jukebox being activated. The room was filled with Let’s Go Sunning, and both of the women brightened.

“I love this song!” Sarah stated.

“I _know_ this song!” Eve responded. Immediately, Charon and Kodiak were forced to stand as the women started out to join the people who’d already started dancing in the center of the room. The men sat back down, ignoring their friends’ protests as they sat down to finish their beers.

“So you and the Eve,” Kodiak said suddenly, and Charon paused in the middle of a sip of his beer, looking up suddenly. Kodiak noticed this, eyebrows raising. “ _Oh_.”

“What?” Charon asked, trying not to look embarrassed by his reaction. He was a grown man, damn it.

“Oh please. You like her,” the other man responded, shaking his head and setting his beer down. “You like her, and you trust her, and she feels the same way. You two are always together, and when you’re not around all she does is talk about you. Well, you and her dad.”

“I don’t know what you—“

“Man, it’s alright. I just wanted to clear the air. ‘Cause I like the kid, but all this is harmless. I know I’m not you, and you’re the one she likes,” he said, shrugging. “Plus, you are a pretty scary guy. You and me fight? I think it’d actually be a fair fight.”

“You’d lose, though,” Charon replied gruffly. Kodiak laughed, picking his beer back up to take a swig.

“See, that’s what I mean. You’re a scary guy, but you’re just a fucking teddy bear. I know your type, you’ll treat her right,” he stated matter-of-factly. Charon coughed, leaning back in his booth in surprise. “’Sides, if you don’t—We have Fat-Mans.”

“Point taken,” the ghoul responded, mildly amused and impressed by the statement. He looked up as Eve came back over, holding a hand out to him.

“Hey, come dance with me.”

“Kid, I don’t dance,” he responded, shaking his head, but she had already grabbed his hand and was tugging him to his feet.

“Come dance with me,” she repeated seriously, pulling him out onto the floor. He sighed, nodding and holding his arms out. She took his hands in hers, pulling him in to wrap her arms around his neck. He was pulled forward slightly with the height difference, having almost a whole foot on her in height. His hands went to her waist as if on instinct, and they swayed awkwardly for a second as the Ink Spots played.

“You’re hopeless,” she said softly. Charon huffed a laugh, smiling despite himself. It was nice, being this close to his employer, just swaying together and enjoying the music, and the ghoul would’ve been content staying like this forever. The music faded into Three Dog’s voice behind them, though, and when they pulled away, his employer looked distant and sad.

“Charon, can we go somewhere and talk?” she asked softly, and he noticed right away how serious her tone was. He nodded, allowing the woman to lead him out of the room and down the hall. They headed out into the silent courtyard, and Charon watched Eve light up a cigarette as she sat on a piece of rubble. He shook his head, refraining from commenting how ‘that stuff’ll kill you’. Lord knows they put up with enough things that could kill them on a daily basis. The occasional cigarette was nothing compared to a Jet-high Raider with a laser rifle.

“I’m sorry, I know we were all having a good time, but.. it just feels so wrong. My father is dead, the last of my family. He was all I had, Charon, and the more I think about it, the less I feel like partying,” she explained softly, staring at the dirt beneath her boots. She paused for a moment, then looked up at him sharply. “I don’t blame you. I’m sorry I said what I did earlier.”

“You’re in mourning, Boss. You’re entitled to say a few things you don’t mean,” the ghoul responded, shaking his head. He didn’t know how to comfort her, he wasn’t trained to comfort, but he felt the need to nonetheless. He sat down next to her on the rubble, plucking the cigarette from her hand and taking a burning pull of the stick before handing it back. She gave him a soft, crooked smile, shaking her head.

“It was uncalled for. You were trying to protect me. You were doing your job. And if it weren’t for you, me and my father would both be dead on the floor of that rotunda. So I guess what I’m trying to say is..” she paused again, leaning over to peck him on his scarred cheek gently. “Thank you.”

“Anytime, boss.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She was barely an adult, and the Brotherhood was happy to send her out by herself into the main line of danger.

They’d been in the Citadel for a week. After the party, Sarah Lyons had approached his employer and asked her to stay for a while, help them with a few projects. Eve had taken to going out alone with the Pride, leaving Charon behind and returning with wild eyes and blood on her face. Sarah Lyons was teaching Eve things that Charon had failed to in the past, and he’d walked into their shared quarters to find her disassembling, cleaning, and reassembling her weapons on multiple occasions. She may not have been a soldier when she’d walked in, but she was taking to the role like a brahmin to water. It worried Charon a bit, but he chose not to comment since the Vaultie seemed determined. Any doubts she may have been having the night of the party seemed gone, replaced by a confidence he had come to expect from her in recent days.

How long this would last, Charon had no idea, but he was getting antsy. He wanted to get back on the road, to go back to just the two of them, but Eve seemed content for now. He wasn’t going to stand in the way of that. They were working on getting the huge robot inside of the Citadel’s laboratory working, and the thing was generally pretty terrifying, so he could see why they felt it was such an asset. Just as he could see why Eve was such an asset to the Brotherhood.

Things came to a head about three days into the second week, when Eve returned to their designated quarters looking nervous. He looked up as she entered, watching as she approached him slowly.

“Charon, I need to tell you something and I don’t think you’re going to like it,” she said, and Charon sat up. Whatever this was, it couldn’t be good. “They’re sending me to Vault 87 to find some Pre-War tech. And I’m going alone.”

“What?” Charon was in shock. They’d been to the area around Vault 87, it was highly irradiated. Eve had wandered into the area on accident when they’d gotten split up by a group of Super Mutants, and Charon had practically had to carry her to the nearest settlement and force her full of Rad-Away.

“There’s supposedly a second entrance, so I’m going to comb the area around Lamplight Caverns. Rothchild said I might find a back door,” she explained. Charon stared at her, trying to ignore the anger building in him at the thought of her in that Super Mutant infested hole by herself. She was barely an adult, and the Brotherhood was happy to send her out by herself into the main line of danger.

“You shouldn’t go alone. Let me—“

“I can do this, Charon. It’s just a couple of Muties, I can sneak right past them. I’ll get in, get the tech, get out,” she spoke soothingly, like she was trying to placate him. That, for some reason, only made him angrier.

“Boss, they can’t ask you to do this,” he insisted, shaking his head. “Just let me come with you.”

“Charon, go back to Underworld,” her tone turned cold, serious. He froze, eyes wide.

“What?” Charon asked, dangerously soft. “Is that an order?”

“It is. I’ll come find you when I’m done,” Eve replied. She looked sincerely sorry for her words, no longer meeting his eyes. She found the floor very interesting all of a sudden, and yet Charon couldn’t look at anything but his employer’s face. She never gave him orders outside of battle, and now she was ordering him to leave her. He felt betrayed and angry, but all he did was stand up stiffly.

“Very well. I shall await your return in Underworld, should you need me,” he responded, heading for the door.

“Charon.”

He turned, and immediately regretted it. Eve was watching him now, eyes full of unshed tears. She whispered a goodbye, and he nodded in response. God, he hoped she made it out alive.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sydney and Charon have a conversation over a beer in the Ninth Circle.

This was familiar. It had taken about a day and a half to get back to Underworld from the Citadel. It was really just a matter of travelling up the Potomac and taking a few subway tunnels (ones he and Eve had cleared out previously), but he found that he moved slower on habit, used to slowing down for his employer’s sake. He arrived just before nightfall, brushing past Willow silently and ignoring her friendly greeting and wave as he headed straight for the Ninth Circle. Charon climbed the stairs slowly, sliding into his usual chair and trying to ignore the stairs of the patrons. One of the other residents, a Pre-War Ghoul named Ed, had taken over the bar, but he paid no notice to Charon.

He was about three beers deep when someone approached him, and he didn’t have to look up to know it was Sydney, a relic hunter they’d encountered in the National Archives almost a month before. He recognized the armor, as well as the pistol on her hip, and barely had time to look up before she was sliding into the seat next to him.

“Long time no see,” the merc stated, snagging an unopened beer from the table and opening it as though she didn’t have an angry ghoul staring at her. He huffed, swigging his own drink and leaning back in his chair. “Where’s your friend?”

“Don’t know, don’t care,” he responded simply, looking away. Sydney didn’t seem phased by his cross tone, raising an eyebrow and leaning towards him.

“She cut you loose? I thought you were her bodyguard,” she seemed genuinely curious, and Charon wasn’t in the mood for it.

“I am,” he replied. “But she told me to wait for her here, so I’m waiting for her here. Alone.”

“Point taken, Red,” the woman said, holding a hand and her beer up defensively. “Don’t shoot me for trying to be friendly. You guys were a real lifesaver back in the Archives, and Eve has been a pretty good friend since. I was just wondering how you guys got separated.”

“She’s doing some work for the Brotherhood of Steel. I didn’t agree with what they wanted her to do, so she sent me away to stop me coming after her,” he explained slowly, not sure why he was even telling her this. Maybe because she knew Eve, too—not as well as him, but she knew what his employer was like.

“You didn’t agree? How so?” Sydney asked, looking somewhat concerned. She was like him, raised in the Wastes. She knew what it took to make him uncomfortable must be something heavy.

“They’re trying to recover the Jefferson Memorial from the Enclave. So they sent the Boss to Vault 87 to get some Pre-War tech. That’s all she’d tell me. We’ve been there before, it’s highly irradiated and surrounded by Super Mutants,” he said slowly, staring down into his beer bottle. Sydney drew in a shocked breath beside him, and he looked up at her. “I wanted to go with her, but she’s trying to prove something to them, I guess. Insisted on going alone. Sent me here when I tried to insist she let me come with her.”

“She probably knew you’d follow her anyway,” the merc responded, shrugging and reaching over to pat his knee. “I would’ve gone after her too, to tell the truth.”

“She doesn’t have to prove anything to them,” he stated, feeling the beginnings of his anger bubbling back up. “She’s going to get herself killed.”

“Maybe she’s not just trying to prove it to them. Maybe she’s trying to prove to herself that she doesn’t need you to survive,” Sydney said slowly. Charon looked at her in surprise. He hadn’t thought of that, and the thought only made him feel angrier. Guiltier.

“If she dies because I wasn’t there—“

“She survived without you before,” Sydney pointed out. God, she was good at this, Charon thought idly. “I mean, you weren’t with her right out of the vault, right? She must’ve found a way to survive before she met up with you.”

“She can’t reason with Super Mutants,” Charon responded, shaking his head. “She might be able to sneak past them, but she’s not exactly a great fighter. If they catch her, she’s gonna have to kill them.”

“You ought to have more faith in her. I bet she’s got more to her than you’ve seen,” the woman responded, standing up. “Thanks for the beer, Red.”

He watched her move across the bar to talk to Ed, taken aback by her comment. The more he thought about it, he could see what she meant. He hadn’t been present for the first month or two that Eve had been out of the Vault, but he knew she’d gotten the Galaxy News Radio signal fixed single-handedly, had saved a town full of people from death by atomic bomb, and had even convinced old Alistair Tenpenny to let ghouls into his tower—though that last one hadn’t ended well for most of the humans involved. Charon had seen the look of pain on Eve’s face every time Daring Dashwood’s radio show came on.

Charon sighed, setting his beer down. He wished he hadn’t been conditioned to follow orders like this, and every nerve in his body was screaming to go back to the Citadel and give them a piece of his mind. His aching bones and drooping eyes however, they told him that such an action could wait, at the very least, until morning.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charon is a man on a mission.

The next morning, Charon set off on the road to the Citadel. It was really just a jaunt through the subway away, maybe a couple of hours, but he decided to make a detour to Megaton to refill his supplies and deliver some of Eve’s research to Moira Brown. He managed to escape a conversation with the woman, excusing himself before she could even thank him, darting up the hill to the saloon.

Gob gave him a wave as he passed to talk to Nova, who upon hearing the situation insisted on shoving a couple of fresh Mirelurk cakes into his hands. They were Eve’s favorite, she explained, guaranteed to soothe any situation with the tiny Vaultie.

Somehow, Charon found himself lingering in the saloon, letting Gob hand him beer after beer until long after the sun had set. By the time the rest of the patrons had long since clear out, Nova, Gob, and Charon were the only ones left. Gob was singing along to a song on the radio in a gravelly baritone while Nova and Charon played Caravan on the bar. Charon was about to win when the song ended, shifting into Three-Dog’s loud voice.

 _“Yikes. Looks like the Lone Wanderer has wandered himself/herself right into the Enclave's sinister clutches. My deep cover super secret agents tell me a Vertibird recently flew out of the mountains to the west, and the Vault kid was an unwilling passenger. I mean, how willing can you be when you're encased in a block of ice? Crazy, I know, but these are crazy times we live in... Anyway, the Vertibird was headed northwest into the mountains, where I have it on good authority the Enclave has their big underground clubhouse. Good luck, Wanderer. You'll need it,”_ the disc-jockey was saying, and Charon shot off of his stool in shock. The stool teetered, falling over at his feet as he stared at the radio.

The Enclave had Eve. She’d been captured by the enemy. His mind went blank, all he could hear was Three-Dog’s voice over and over in his head. He vaguely registered Nova standing up beside him, putting a hand on his arm, and he batted her hand away with a snarl, stumbling backwards. The look of terror on the woman’s face was not lost to the former soldier, but he threw down some caps on the counter and was out the door before they could blink, suddenly more sober than when he’d walked in the door.

He should’ve been there to protect her. He should’ve kept her safe. Charon kept moving, feet transition from dirt to the pavement in Springvale. He could hear the distant gunshots of Raiders, but he barely noticed them as he passed, firing shells into the skulls of any poor soul who got too close. The ghoul was leaving a trail of bodies in his wake, his vision red as he stormed up to the front gate of the Citadel.

“Hey, no civilians past this point,” the idiot to his right said, turning to face him. He narrowed his eyes at the man, obviously barely out of his Initiate stage from the way he gulped and stepped back at the look on the ghoul’s face.

“I work for the kid from Vault 101. I’m her bodyguard. Your _Elder_ ,” he spat in distaste, pressing a gloved finger to the breastplate of the kid’s power armor. “Got her captured by the Enclave. I think that justifies you opening the _goddamned_ door for me. Got it?”

The kid looked over at his partner, terrified, and the other Knight regarded Charon coolly.

“Look here, Ghoul. I don’t care if you’re President John Henry fucking Eden. No civilians past this point,” the other stated. Charon rounded on his unholstering his shotgun and lunging forward in one swift move. He had the man pinned to the gate in seconds, shotgun pressed to his chin, and he heard the kid behind him power up his Gatling laser. Charon turned to look at the kid, growling.

“You get on that Intercom and tell your people to let me in or I shoot,” he threatened. Eve would be upset with him when she found out about this, but he was going to get her back—no matter what.

No sooner had the kid pressed the button and said, “Sir, there’s a ghoul out here who—“ than the door opened and out came Sarah Lyons herself. She held up a hand to Charon, who released the Knight from his grip, stalking towards her.

“Hold it right there,” the Paladin said, gesturing for him to stop. “I know you’re angry.”

“Damn right I am. You people got her into this mess, I heard the radio signal. They followed her into the Vault,” Charon snarled. Sarah nodded, looking far more reasonable than Charon felt.

“You’re right, this is our fault. And if you follow me and keep that weapon holstered, I’ll tell you how we’re going to make it up to you,” she stated calmly. Charon straightened, holstering his weapon. He knew that if he had any chance of getting Eve back, he was gonna have to play ball with the Brotherhood assholes. Sarah led him into the compound and down to the Lab, where Lyons Pride was already gathered around chattering nervously. They fell silent at the silent of Charon, staring up at him. The group didn’t seem surprised to see him, though no one but Kodiak actually seemed pleased to see him.

“Nice of you to join us. Finally,” the dark-skinned Knight called, grinning. Charon blinked. They’d been expecting him? “Now you’re here, we can get this party started.”

“Kodiak, shut up and let Sarah tell us the plan,” said a fully-armored Knight to his right, sounding exasperated. Charon could respect that.

“What Dusk said. Now, listen here, boys..”


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Missed her by that much.

Her head was pounding, eyes still red from the smoke when she stumbled into the Ninth Circle. Sydney caught up with her at the door, helping her to a chair. She sank into it hard, digging through her bag for a Stimpak while Sydney got a glass of water from an familiar barman. Where was Charon? He wasn’t in the room, where she’d expected him to be waiting. She took the water from Sydney with a nod, tossing the used Stimpak down onto the table and gulping down the water. She’d run the whole way back from Raven Rock, knowing it wouldn’t be long until Charon would find out she’d been taken by the Enclave. She’d heard the radio from her Pip-Boy inside the facility, and she knew the Ninth Circle played Galaxy News Radio, too. It was only a matter of time.

“Sydney,” she said softly, looking up. The older woman sat down next to her, taking the glass from her hand. “Sydney, where’s Charon?”

“He told us yesterday that he was leaving for the Citadel. Wanted to give someone called Lyons a piece of his mind. At least, I hope that was their name. Though, he does seem the kind of guy to go head-to-head with an actual lion,” Sydney said thoughtfully, and Eve smiled despite herself. She stood shakily, but Sydney pushed her back down. “No way, you need to rest. You look like shit, Vaultie.”

Eve shook her head, trying to stand again, but again Sydney stopped her.

“Got any way of getting a message to your bodyguard? We’ve got radio, we’ve got a HAM in the back, we’ve—“

“HAM. He and I have a system in case we get separated. His idea,” she interrupted breathlessly. Sydney nodded, helping her up and leading her to a HAM radio set up in Tulip’s shop downstairs. Eve sat down much like dropping a sack of potatoes, letting Sydney turn on the radio for her and hand her the microphone.

“Charon, Charon, do you copy?” she breathed as she set the radio to the correct frequency. There was silence on the other end. “Charon—“

“Boss?” the ghoul’s voice crackled through, and Eve breathed a ‘yes!’ before grinning.

“Charon, you beautiful bastard,” she stated, “why the hell weren’t you waiting for me?”

“Because, Boss, I was mounting a rescue mission. But I see now that such a mission was unnecessary. I apologize for not having more faith in your return,” the ghoul replied. “Shall I return to Underworld and retrieve you?”

“No, Charon, stay at the Citadel. I’ll be there ton—“ she went to sit up straight and let out a hiss of pain as she realized how quickly her wounds were catching up with her. “Make that tomorrow. I’ll be there tomorrow. Let Sarah and the others know.”

“Yes, boss,” Charon responded. There was a pause, and Eve lifted her mic to her mouth, but Charon spoke again. “I’m glad you’re alright, Eve.”

Eve flushed, smiling wide. She fought the smile only when she saw the giggling of Tulip and Sydney across the room, flipping them the bird before clearing her throat and speaking into the mic. “Thanks, Charon. See you soon.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charon is a very scary guy (the scariest, tallest teddy bear in the Wastes).

Charon’s heart is pounding. She’s alive. She’s fine. He set down his mic, turning at the sound of footsteps. The look of hope on Sarah’s face actually surprises him, though he still believes it’s just hope that this will all be over soon. That they’ll all have clean water soon, and be able to start fresh.

“She’s alive?” Sarah breathes, and Charon nods slowly. He stands, feeling nervous all of a sudden though he wasn’t sure exactly why. Sarah let out a sigh of relief, reaching out and clapping a hand onto the ghoul’s shoulder. “Who’dve guessed that the kid would turn to a HAM radio first thing?”

“Because I taught her. It’s the one way she knows to contact me no matter where either of us is,” Charon said, looking away to hide the small smile on his face. Leave it to his Vaultie to get out of the Enclave’s clutches, probably half-dead from the explosions heard across the Wastes and still remember the exact frequency he gave her to contact him. The minute the word had gone out about Raven Rock, he’d run for the laboratory and demanded a radio. Rothchild had turned it over without a question, leaving Charon to turn it on and stare at it intently. He was pretty sure the crew running this place were giving him a wide berth at this point.

“So she’s okay? Does she have the GECK?” Sarah asked, and Charon paused. He looked up at her with a frown, and she stepped back instinctively. “Sorry, it’s just.. Did she mention it?”

“No, she didn’t,” he responded coldly. Sarah nodded slowly, then sank into the chair next to him. In the past 24 hours, Paladin Lyons had been following him around almost like a lost puppy dog. He was sure her father had ordered her to watch him, and had taken to ignoring her for the most part. But she hadn’t sat down beside him, hadn’t stopped to actually talk to him. He knew she liked Eve, maybe even respected her, but she was still Brotherhood. And he didn’t trust the Brotherhood.

“Look, I know you don’t like us. Or trust us, especially, but I’m glad you’re here,” the blonde said. Charon stared at her silently for a moment, then nodded briskly.

“Thank you,” he wasn’t quite sure what the proper response was, but that seemed close enough. Sarah shot him a smirk, shaking her head.

“I know you care about her. I understand, she’s likeable. Hell, even _I_ like her,” Sarah admitted, though it wasn’t exactly a big secret at this point. “We won’t let anything else happen to her. Especially if this is how you get when she’s just _missing_.”

Charon snorted a laugh, looking over at the Paladin with an amused expression. He managed to school his expression quickly, though, reverting back to a cool indifference as Sarah’s eyes lit up a bit. She’d made him smile, and now he was never going to hear the end of it. He’d heard Eve babbling about a bet involving him before she’d left, and he was positive he’d just won it for Sarah. Damn it.

“I appreciate that, Paladin,” he responded quickly. “Though you can be damned sure I’m not leaving her alone with your people anytime soon. Not if I can help it.”

“Oh, I’m sure.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A long-awaited reunion.

She was like a hurricane, launching across the courtyard and directly into Charon’s arms. She’d showered, brushed her hair, but she still smelled like blood and gunpowder. It was a smell Charon was used to, and it was comforting to have her particular brand of the scent this close again. He’d thought she was dead, was happy for her to prove him wrong, and now here he was hugging her in public. He could feel eyes on them as they pulled apart, the old ghoul placing a hand on the girl’s shoulder with a firm nod.

“I would prefer it if you could never do that to me again,” he stated softly, low enough that only she could hear, and the bright smile spreading across her tired face was worth the warmth flooding his mangled face. Thank god no one could tell how hard he was blushing.

“Oh, trust me. I learned my lesson leaving you behind,” she replied, and Charon sighed. He shook his head, letting the Vaultie hug him again. Her arms were tight around his middle, and he didn’t want to take her down to the laboratory just yet. He knew the Pride was waiting, Sarah had been arguing with her father all morning, but he felt selfish in his need to pull her in close and never let go. He resisted the urge, though, stepping back and clearing his throat.

“We should go inside. They’re waiting for you downstairs,” he explained, and she nodded slowly with an unreadable expression. He couldn’t imagine what she’d been through, but he hoped they’d have time to talk about it later. Who knew what Lyons had planned at this point.

He didn’t say anything when she took his hand, following her to the door and holding it for her with his free hand to let her duck beneath it and head inside. They were about halfway to the stairs when Sarah Lyons’ voice came booming up from below.

“All I’m saying is, the longer we sit here, the more time they have to shore up their defenses. We should hit them sooner rather than later,” the blond was saying. Eve dropped Charon’s hand in favor of half-limping down the steps, and Charon wasn’t far behind, holding a hand out to keep her steady.

“We barely have the manpower to keep the Citadel fortified. We’ve been over this before, Sarah,” Lyons replied, shaking his head in disapproval. Charon and Eve came to a stop behind him, watching silently.

“So we just wait until they decide we’re next on their list? If the Pride goes in now, we might have a chance!” Sarah insisted. Even Charon had to admit she had a point. Strike now, while the Enclave was still somewhat fractured. It was a common technique, and for good reason.

“And if you fail, then what? The risk is not worth the reward,” the old man shook his head again, frown deepening on his face.

“I agree. Without the GECK, the purifier is useless to the Enclave, anyway. They may give up before long,” the scribe, Rothchild, said hopefully. Charon shared a look with Eve, resisting the urge to roll his eyes.

“I don’t like it.”

“You don’t have to like it, Sarah. You just have to follow orders,” the Elder stated firmly. Sarah muttered her assent, sighing as her father turned to face Eve. “So you’re back. We had feared both you and the GECK were lost. Were you successful?”

“There’s no time,” Eve stated quickly, suddenly all business. Charon stared at her, but she paid no heed. “Sarah’s right, we have to move now or we’ll love Project Purity.”

“You think I’m unaware? We’ve watched the build-up around the facility for a week. Has something new happened?” he questioned, and Eve nodded.

“The Enclave took the GECK. They’re installing it now,” she explained. Charon’s stomach dropped. This couldn’t be good.

“Then we must go at once. If you have any other information, tell me now before we mobilize. Any help you can give might save lives,” Elder Lyons stated, frowning.

“The Enclave doesn’t have the activation code. They can’t start the purifier.”

“Well, that gives us a little more time. But how long do we have before they figure it out? This makes the situation far more dire.”

“If the Enclave has the GECK, there’s nothing stopping them starting the purifier,” Sarah cut in. Eve nodded, but Lyons was quick to respond.

“I’m afraid you’re right. We need to act now, while we can.”

“Send the Pride in! We can do it! We can win this,” insisted the Paladin, and the Pride behind her nodded and murmured in agreement. Lyons sighed heavily.

“All right, Sarah. The Pride goes in,” he agreed, prompting a cheer from Eve and the Pride. Charon winced, stepping back instinctively. Lyons held a hand up to stop them. “But I want you to have extra firepower. Rothchild, is it ready?”

"What? No!" Rothchild protested immediately, shaking his head vehemently. "I mean, Li and I have solved the power problems, but we've only barely finished diagnostic tests.."

"So?" Lyons asked slowly, raising his furry eyebrows expectantly. He clearly wasn't going to take no for an answer at this point. Not with everything that was on the line.

Rothchild sighed heavily, frowning. "It's not ready for field tests, let alone live fire situations. The weapons haven't been calibrated, the navigation detection system is offline.." he trailed off, and Lyons cut in again.

"Rothchild, enough. Can you make it work?"

"Honestly? I don't know," the scribe stated softly. He frowned at the Elder, and Charon glanced at Eve next to him. Her expression hadn't changed, still determined and serious. More serious than he'd seen her in all of their months travelling and fighting together. His eyes pulled away from her as Rothchild began speaking again. "I think we can scrape by, and I suppose if we can't.. it won't matter in the long run anyway."

"Then it's decided," Lyons spoke firmly, and the Pride shifted restlessly, already looking to be itching to fight. He turned to his daughter, placing a hand on the girl's power armor-clad shoulder. "Sarah, you take the Pride and use the robot as support. Take our friend here and secure that purifier."

The Pride began chattering excitedly, Rothchild moving away to start the power-up process for the giant freaking robot. That thing still freaked Charon out a bit, though he knew Eve was fascinated by it. He knew her obsession with robotics and science in general, the girl was freaky smart, but he still worried that out there, in the field-- well, one wrong move and she could be goo on the road.

He watched as Eve spoke excitedly to Sarah, silently trying not to appear as nervous as he felt. Charon never got this nervous before a fight, but he found himself getting more and more nervous the further into this war they got. Almost losing Eve to the Enclave-- that had been terrifying. Her trying to send him away after her father's death-- that had been heartbreaking. If something happened now, to either of them, he wasn't sure they'd ever be the same.

Charon was pulled out of his thoughts as Eve came tearing across the floor towards him, carrying a huge set of power armor in her deceptively tiny brown arms. She didn't look weighed down in the least, but he still found himself reaching out to take it on instinct. Eve grinned, gesturing to the armor in his arms with a wink.

"Looks like we're honorary Pride members, you and me," she explained cheerfully, and Charon couldn't help but smile at her enthusiasm. She pushed his shoulder gently and gestured to the armor again. "Try it on!"

He sighed, shaking his head and beginning to pull off his armor. He saw some of the scribes look over curiously and Eve barked a loud laugh, reaching out a hand to stop him.

"Not here, Charon. Come on," she said, grabbing his arm and pulling him towards the nearby restrooms. He could've sworn he heard a whistle as the door closed, but he was more focused on Eve's hands pulling the power armor from his arms and setting it on the nearest sink. Charon felt the heat return to his face as she started in on his vest, and he batted her hands away, turning away from her.

"Could you.." he began, and Eve let out a soft chuckle behind him. He dropped his leather top, reaching back for the metal breastplate that was immediately pressed into his searching hand. "Thanks."

It took him a few minutes and a little help to fit himself into the cool metal armor, but once he was done he found himself staring into the broken mirror opposite him. He looked nothing like himself in this armor, and his head sticking out of the shining metal was a stark contrast with its irradiated skin and glazed blue eyes. He didn't look like he belonged in this armor, in this room even. But the look on Eve's face when he turned around erased that thought, that feeling of not belonging.

"We're really doing this, Charon. We're finishing what my Dad started," she breathed, moving towards him. Her expression was so open and amazed, something he'd only seen directed towards James. Just a look of pure, unadulterated adoration. He reached out, taking ahold of her shoulders gently.

"I'd do anything for you, boss," he responded simply. Her eyes softened, and she stretched up, pressing her lips to his. They stayed like that for a moment, just basking in their closeness, before pulling away slowly. She cleared her throat, stepping out of his grasp and gesturing to the door.

"Do you mind?" she asked. Charon chuckled, nodding. He gathered his armor and headed for the door, pointedly not looking back even as he heard the telltale zipper of her stupid blue vault suit. He had more willpower than that, he told himself.

God, he was hopeless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay between posts, guys. Things have been a little hectic at work, but I stayed up all night to bust out this chapter for you. I've got about an hour until I have to head to work (and probably stop at Starbucks on the way), but I'm working on the next chapter right now. Hopefully will have it up sometime in the next few days.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two weeks later...

It had been two weeks. Two weeks since he’d carried Eve out of the purifier, seen her and Sarah Lyons’ colorless faces as he’d slung them over his power-armored shoulders to the best of his ability and pulled them from the irradiated room. The soldiers had rushed in medics, returned everyone to the Citadel once it was safe. He’d spent the first three days sitting on the ground outside the medical section waiting for any sign that she was okay. After the fourth day, he’d started to get antsy. He needed to do something, go somewhere. Find a way to pass the time. So he’d gone to Megaton.

He apologized to Gob and Nova first, heading straight to the saloon to have a beer and catch up. He’d explained the situation, seeing the concerned look on Gob’s face at the news. Next, he delivered some letters from Greta and Carol that’d he’d been carrying for the Vaultie, then headed to the Stahl’s, and finally up to the house. His employer’s house was large, spacious, and metal, and he kind of approved.

As he walked in the door, he was immediately approached by Dogmeat, who whined hungrily while he dug a newly-purchased brahmin steak out of his pack to toss to the mutt. He took it happily, gnawing on it as Charon climbed the stairs, tossing his weapons onto the chair at Eve’s desk. Next was the armor, removing it and stripping down to his underwear as he set it aside to clean later. He’d slept in this bed enough, even next to Eve on a few of the colder nights, that the minute his head hit the pillow he was out.

Charon was vaguely aware of Dogmeat crawling into the bed with him at some point in the night, but he managed to sleep well through the night, waking up to sunlight filtering in through the window. He sat up slowly, patting the dog on the head as he lifted his head as well, panting happily up at the ghoul. Charon swung his legs off the bed, gathering his armor and cleaning it before feeding Dogmeat again. He had a plan to keep himself occupied, and had even found a portable HAM radio in the Enclave’s lab so he could monitor Eve’s status. Now he just had to sucker the dog to help.

He’d been offered a job by Scribe Baldy to help deliver water from Project Purity to various spots in the Wasteland. Having Dogmeat would help, and he knew that. The dog was good in a pinch, and especially good at taking out hostile wildlife and finding spare ammo. He’d seen him do it for Eve, and had even had Dogmeat drop some .308 into his lap once while sniping some Raiders.

Sure enough, when he left, Dogmeat followed. He fished up some supplies, then headed for the Jefferson Memorial. He met up with a crew of three other mercs, a Brotherhood Initiate, and a couple of Brahmin outside the purifier. They’d just gotten to Canterbury Commons when his radio crackled to life.

“Charon, can you hear me? This is Scribe Jennings at the Citadel. I repeat, this is Scribe Jennings at the Citadel, over,” a female voice came through gently. Charon jumped up from his dusty mattress, startling one of the other mercs awake. He glared over at the ghoul, who flipped him off before heading outside to show a little respect for his fellow travellers. He padded out to the street, holding the radio’s microphone to his mouth.

“This is Charon. What is it, Scribe Jennings?” he responded gruffly.

“You wanted to be informed if there was any change in Eve’s condition. There’s been some irregular brain activity. Could be nothing, but I thought you should know, over,” the Scribe informed him. Charon’s heart leapt into his throat. Eve could be waking up, and he was across the state.

“Thank you, Jennings.”

“Sir, if you have time to stop by between deliveries, I can keep you informed, over,” she offered, and Charon couldn’t stop the small smile spreading across his face. Luckily, no one else was around to ruin his reputation, so he gave in to the smile, leaning against the wall of the building they were inhabiting for the night. Two weeks of nothing, and finally there was hope again. His Vaultie was okay. She'd gone headfirst into a room full of blistering radiation and come out the other side still breathing.

He just hoped Sarah was that lucky. He knew how important she was to Eve, how important she was to the Brotherhood, and while he personally couldn't care less-- no, that was a lie. He liked Sarah, she was good people. She kept Eve safe, and he was grateful for that. They'd gotten separated at the Memorial, pinned down by Enclave soldiers, and he'd seen them across the hallway from him, ducked behind a wall. He'd seen the Enclave soldier fire a laser rifle at Eve's head, and Sarah pull her back just in time for it to whiz past. It definitely wasn't the first time he'd seen Sarah have Eve's back.

"Any word on Paladin Lyons?" he asked after a moment of deliberation, and the other end was silent for a few moments.

"No change, sir," Jennings responded finally, and Charon's smile dropped from his face. He knew Eve would never forgive herself if Sarah died-- and he was positive Lyons wouldn't forgive either of them, on top of that. He muttered a thanks into the radio and signed off, tucking the radio into his armor and heading back inside. He wasn't sure how he'd fall asleep, but he was going to try. If not for his sake, than for Eve's. He was no good to her dead.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Return to the Citadel.

The trek back to the Citadel after his delivery was a slow one. They'd gotten jumped by Raiders around the Bethesda Ruins on the way back into the city, and they'd lost two of their five mercs holding them off of the Brahmin. The rest of them had limped the rest of the way, returning the Brahmin to their pen outside Rivet City before collecting payment and going their separate ways. Dogmeat was hot on his heels as he made his way up the road, and the guards didn't look twice before opening the gate. He stopped by to check on the Pride first, palling around with Kodiak and Dusk for a few minutes. He'd just stood up to leave when a young woman with shockingly blue hair stumbled through the door, tripping over her robes as she stepped into the room and straightened awkwardly.

"Sir, she's awake," she said, and Charon immediately recognized the voice. Jennings must have heard he'd arrived, and had come looking for him. He hurried to follow her to the med bay, hearing voices as he approached and stepping up to the door in time to catch a snippet of conversation.

"What's going on with the purifier?" Eve was saying, but her voice was low and scratchy, not far off from that of a newly-turned ghoul. He'd seen enough of her in the past few weeks to know that, at least on the outside, the radiation from Project Purity had affected her too adversely. It made sense, though, that after two weeks of disuse her voice would be hoarse.

"The Brotherhood has taken control of the purifier, and is managing distribution of the water to the people of the Wasteland," Lyons explained softly as Charon pushed the door open. Neither of the conscious human occupants seemed to notice him, though he was sure Lyons knew of his presence. The old man was scary omniscient sometimes. "If you travel there, speak to Scribe Bigsley. He's heading up the on-site operation."

Eve nodded, glancing over his shoulder. Her eyes locked onto Charon almost immediately, widening perceptively as she hurriedly murmured a goodbye. She moved towards Charon swiftly, practically lunging into his already-outstretched arms. Her skin was warm, probably too warm (he blamed the radiation), but he held her against his chest silently for a moment as Lyons excused himself. He heard Jennings cough awkwardly from the doorway behind him before departing as well, and made a mental note to thank her later. If it weren't for Jennings, Charon wouldn't have been here to greet Eve when she woke up.

She pulled away from his arms, turning to look at the still unconscious Sarah. Charon felt a strange twisting in his chest as she walked over to check on her, placing a hand on her shoulder with a soft frown. She only stood there a moment, but Charon saw her shoulders begin to shake, and he began moving towards her the moment he heard a soft sniff emit from his employer. He stepped forward, placing a hand on her shoulder and allowing her to turn around and move towards him, pressing her face into his armored chest.

"I'm sure she'll be fine, boss," he muttered, but Eve only began to cry harder, wrapping her arms around his waist. He let her press herself against him, frowning at the growing wet patch on his chest where her tears were staining his armor. He didn't really mind. However, he did feel somewhat guilty. He wasn't sure why, since he'd done what he could that day, but he still felt guilty for the way things had turned out.

"Thank you, Charon," she rasped as she pulled away, looking up at him with tear-filled eyes. He blinked back down at her, looking away quickly as he felt his face heat up considerably. Something about this girl, barely a woman and still so innocent to the ways of the world, seemed to do that to him. He'd seen her in action, sneaking past Super Mutants and taking down Raiders with a carefully-aimed shot at a generator, and he knew she could handle herself. That just seemed to make it so much worse.

He reached out, ruffling her scruffy, curly hair, and she wrinkled her nose at him. It wasn't a look of disgust or upset, more amused than anything, and for a second he forgot where they were. In a sterile medbay, standing over the unconscious form of one of their few mutual friends. For just a moment, he felt like just a regular man looking down at the woman he loved.

And there he was. He loved Eve. Charon had known it for a while, he supposed, but he'd been afraid to admit it. Looking back on his behaviour, on his determination to keep her safe and healthy, it made sense in his mind for the first time. Sure, he was Eve's bodyguard, but he was more than that. They were friends, they were partners.

"Hey, boss," he began to say, but Eve was distracted by something behind him. They both turned to find Kodiak standing there. Eve launched forward, leaping into the Paladin's arms and hugging him, and Charon stepped back to watch the interaction. What he had to say wasn't that important, anyway.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charon has a bad dream.

_"Just a little longer-- Oh, look at that, that's beautiful." Smooth-skinned hands handling a large knife, pressing it against scarred skin. He refrains from letting out a whimper as he sees red pool beneath the blade, knowing that'll just make this man angry. He averts his eyes, trying to ignore the hitch in the man's breath as the man lifts the knife to his throat with a manic grin. One simple movement and he could be dead, never to be seen again, but--_

Charon jerked awake, gasping and coughing. His hand went to his throat as he sat up, pulling it away to check for blood. He was relieved when it came away clean, but jumped as he heard a soft cough from above him. He was fine, he was in Megaton, in his employer's house. He looked up from his spot on the picnic table's bench to find Eve watching him from the balcony. She flushed, smiling weakly and heading down the stairs. Charon sat up, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly as her bare feet padded down the metal steps.

"Sorry, I heard you from upstairs. Sounded bad," she said softly, maintaining her distance across the cluttered room. He shrugged, swinging his feet under the table and rummaging through the bottles on the table to find an unopened beer. Succeeding, he opened it on the edge of the table and took a swig. Things had been a little weird since returning from the Citadel, but he wasn't sure why. He hadn't told her about his sudden realization in the medbay, and she hadn't mentioned anything to him, but she still seemed to keep at least a few feet between them at all times.

"Just a bad dream," he responded, staring pointedly down at his beer. Eve slid onto the bench across from his, finding a Nuka amongst the chaos and having a sip. She folded her arms on the table, studying the weathered wood of the table as though it were the most fascinating thing she'd ever seen. He watched her for a moment, lowering the beer from his mouth before he spoke again. "Boss, are you alright?"

"Yeah, I just.." she seemed hesitant to say what she was thinking, and that made Charon nervous. He frowned, but she continued on. "Kodiak told me what happened at the Memorial. How you carried me and Sarah to safety. How you barely left my side for two weeks. About Jennings and you talking on the radio."

"Oh," was all Charon could really say, feeling the heat behind his scarred face. He cleared his throat gently.

"Charon, that day in the med bay, it seemed like you wanted to tell me something. Greg, he.. He won't tell me what's going on with you, but I'm worried. I don't want things to be weird between us. I lo--" she stopped, still staring down at the table. Finally, her dark eyes flickered up and connected with his own, her sun-tanned cheeks reddening. "I care about you, Charon. But if you don't want to be here with me.."

"That's not it," Charon interrupted quickly, wincing despite himself. He'd never been good at expressing himself, but he wanted to try. God forbid she think he hated her or something. "I just-- realized something. Something I was.. feeling. I haven't felt like that in.. well, ever. Or at least, not in a long time. That I can remember."

"You were feeling something?" she repeated slowly, looking up at him with confusion evident on her features. He averted his eyes, clearing his throat again. "Oh."

"You're ridiculous," he stated firmly. This took her by surprise and she barked a laugh before covering her mouth with her free hand. "You're a goody-two-shoes daddy's girl who has a fit any time anyone brings up science, who can handle heavy artillery and also sneak past a gang of super mutants but still managed to get jumped by a legion of soldiers in metal armor. You're terrible at keeping secrets, but you're still one of the Brotherhood's top recon soldiers-- even though you're not actually _in the Brotherhood_. You care so much about other people that half the time, you don't even take care of yourself. It's honestly a miracle that you're still alive."

"I wouldn't be, if it weren't for you. Half the time, you're the one saving my ass," she argued half-heartedly, looking genuinely embarrassed by his words. He shook his head, setting his beer down and fixing her with a level stare.

"I love you."

Eve almost dropped her Nuka, coughing. Probably shouldn't have said that while she was in the middle of a swig, Charon realized. But he couldn't laugh, just staring at her. She didn't feel the same. She couldn't feel the same.

"You love me?" she repeated. She seemed to be doing that a lot during this conversation. She fixed him with a wide-eyed stare, an expression he'd only seen a handful of times. Eve was genuinely speechless, for once in her life.

"Yeah," he responded simply. She stood suddenly, and Charon couldn't help but flinch back. He was still a little bit jumpy from the nightmare he'd had, and Eve seemed to notice this. She slid off of the bench smoothly, moving to sit next to him and clearing her throat awkwardly before reaching out and taking his hand. He allowed her to do so, feeling her long, graceful fingers loop between his scarred, gunpowder-caked ones. Their eyes met, and for a moment, neither of them moved.

"I love you, too. Charon," she replied after what felt like an eternity, and Charon's heart leapt into his throat. He didn't know what to say, what to think. His brain went on autopilot. He was vaguely aware of her squeezing his hand gently, then she stood up in front of him and released his hand. She was halfway to the stairs when she turned around to look at him. "Charon, do you want to sleep upstairs?"

"Upstairs?" he repeated dumbly, finally coming to his senses. For a moment, he seemed uncomfortable with the idea. Was she suggesting that they have sex? He'd only just wrapped his mind around her loving him back, and even then, just barely. He wasn't sure he could handle her inviting him upstairs to have sex.

"With me. I mean, um.." she looked embarrassed, face flushing again. "N-nothing like that, but.. you know. We could.. sleep in my bed. Together. Fully clothed."

"That would be.. nice," he responded, finishing his beer and standing. He was relieved that she seemed just as embarrassed by the prospect of having sex as he felt at that moment. It'd been far too long since he'd had to worry about that kind of thing, and he'd never had sex with anyone he'd loved before. The ghoul followed his employer up the stairs and into her small bedroom, eyeing the tiny single bed as she sat down on it.

He heard Dogmeat pad to the door behind him and started, turning to look at the hound. The three of them had been in this room together before, even in Eve's bed together, but now the dynamic had changed. Even the dog seemed to recognize that. He barked once, then padded away to find the mass of blankets in the other room that Eve had collected to make the dog a bed.

The two companions climbed into the bed together, Charon taking a moment to removed his mud-and-gross-caked boots out of respect for his employer's space, and Charon found himself with a chestful of Vaultie, the loose curls of her hair brushing against his chin as she pressed her face to his breast. Their legs had somehow ended up wound together, his arms wrapping around her shoulders protectively. They lay there silently for a moment in the darkness before she pulled away to prop herself up on her elbow and kiss him on the cheek.

"Goodnight, Charon."

He murmured a soft good night in response, letting her worm her way back into his arms and fall asleep. He himself wouldn't fall asleep for another hour or two yet, but it was comforting to have her this close, to be able to smell the soap in her hair and feel her warmth against him. She loved him. She wanted him close to her. It was like a dream come true--

_"Ah, there's my favorite project."_

_A too-wide smile, pale blue eyes. He's holding a blood-stained rag in one hand, gesturing to a dirty barber's chair with another. He watches Charon like a hawk, eyes never leaving the ghoul as he crosses the room to sit in the chair. Charon wonders idly if this is the day the good doctor will put him out of his misery, but he's now ignoring Charon's present in favor of poring over his tools with a sick fascination. He finally decides on one, picking up a hypodermic needle from the tray and rounding on him with that too-wide smile never leaving his face. He's almost upon him now, mere feet away, and Charon can't bring himself to do anything more than look at the murky green liquid in the syringe as the doctor presses it into his arm and--_

Charon jerked awake again to find Eve sitting at her desk with a lit cigarette in her hand. She turned to look at him with concern evident in her features, but neither of them spoke for a long moment.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No."


End file.
